


your light, my life, stay with me all night

by ninehundredthousandfinalwords



Series: night, light, you're quite a sight [1]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amused Gandalf, Gandalf Ships It, Legolas has a ring of power, M/M, Ring of Fire, Rings of Power, gandalf's ring
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:08:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21822673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninehundredthousandfinalwords/pseuds/ninehundredthousandfinalwords
Summary: 'cause without you i won't be alrightLegolas, the Ring-bearer of Narya, the Ring of Fire, has been called to Imladris concerning the shadows of Mordor, bringing with him news of the creature Gollum's escape from captivity. It's not wise for him to go on such a dangerous quest, especially since Sauron will be after his ring as well. He doesn't care. Especially when Estel will be going too.ORGandalf gives Legolas a Ring of Power, everyone says "no you can't go to Mordor", and Legolas goes anyways. Also, Aragorn is tired and needs a warm hug.Translation into中文
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Legolas Greenleaf
Series: night, light, you're quite a sight [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1572493
Comments: 24
Kudos: 123





	1. Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 1

Companionship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 1

It wasn’t hard, riding two weeks on horseback. Oh no, Legolas Greenleaf Thranduilion of Mirkwood had been through much worse. The part that bothered him was how he had to spend the entire time with Narya burning a hole through his torso.

The pleasant heat of the Ring had never bothered him before. For hundreds of years, ever since Gandalf had first passed the Ring on down to him, it had always been a constant, warm heat on his chest, held in place by a simple chain. He’d never dared to put it on, but he’d used its powers once or twice, in manipulating a forest fire that had ravaged the Mirkwood a couple decades back, and the rush of strength that had come with it was still fresh and new in his mind. Now, the closer he got to the Last Homely House, the hotter it burned, as if some inexplicable force was drawing it near. But as far as he knew, there was nothing dangerous there. The fiery sensation of the Ring was something quite mysterious to him.

His traveling company was only an hour’s journey from Imladris, and he could already feel the glorious trees and fresh scent of waterfalls that came with the beautiful place. His horse had never moved faster, somehow also urged on by the waves of worry radiating off of her rider.

_ “Annon allen, mellon nin _ .” he murmured, running a hand over her grey coat.  _ “Thank you, my friend.” _

The captain of his company, Aerendyl, nocked an arrow and let it fly. Legolas snapped to attention, one hand on his bow, the other near his quiver. But as the wooden arrow soared up high, he realized that it wasn’t to kill. It was to let the people of Imladris know they were approaching. He bit his lip and relaxed his hold on his weapons but grasped them all the same.

Suddenly Narya flared with heat and he shuddered. It pulsed, sending wave after wave of furious fire through his chest. It was starting to edge on really painful now, and he hurriedly tightened his cloak around himself to hide the red-orange glow.

They traveled in silence for a while, Legolas biting back whimpers at the increasing feverish hotness of his Ring. By the time his company of Mirkwood elves had arrived in Imladris, he was positive he could smell his own burning flesh. He leapt off his horse immediately, held the chain of the Ring away from his body, and sighed in relief at the cool air that soothed the pain. Mithrandir was there, quickly ushering him inside the town and narrowing his wise eyes at the bright outline of the Ring against his green tunic.

The council was starting soon, but Narya was only growing hotter. Along the way, an elleth with long dark hair and a maid’s uniform handed him a small container of water. Gratefully, he dropped the golden Ring into the cup. It hissed upon contact with the cool liquid and sank to the bottom, still glowing. Within moments the water in the cup started to grow warm. He carried it to the council meeting, disguising it as a goblet of wine and sat down beside the Mirkwood elves, regal, back stiff, looking every bit a prince.

Across the clearing he noticed Estel and nodded in greeting. The man nodded back, looking exhausted, battle-stained, travel-weary and covered in a layer of dirt and grime. His hand was still on the sword at his side.

To his surprise a young hobbit scurried up to Mithrandir, hiding behind him and watching with an attentive eye. And he wasn’t the only member of the council that didn’t belong there. Legolas could see dwarves(vile creatures), and another couple of men. Lord Elrond himself and his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, were standing at the head of the council, conversing with Arwen, Elrond’s only daughter, who was still wearing a travel cloak.

The hobbit took a step closer to him, looking curious, and Legolas smiled kindly at him. He had probably never seen an elf before. But then Narya in the cup sizzled dangerously and he caught a glimpse of the shining gold in the hobbit’s shirt.

A Ring! A hobbit was a Ringbearer!

Just then, Lord Elrond signaled to begin the council. Stunned, Legolas sat back, keeping his keen eyes on that glint of lustrous metal. When the hobbit laid the Ring on the central stone arch, he gasped and nearly let go of the cup with Narya, as the water had grown boiling and had spilled over a little. So the presence of the One Ring was what was agitating it. There was no way he could put it anywhere near his chest, if it could make water boil.

Mithrandir graciously cooled the water for him and he shot a grateful glance at the old wizard. He smiled grimly back. He sighed, leaning into his cold stone seat. The water was once again turning warm to the touch.

Boromir of Gondor, who turned out to be the other man besides Estel, sat straight up and smirked. There seemed to be a lot he had to say. Legolas narrowed his eyes. He could sense darkness brewing in his heart. His hand instinctively went to his bow. Mithrandir gave him a warning glare, and he let his grip loosen enough so that his fingers just lightly brushed the bowstring, but he knew that if he wanted, he could have an arrow flying through anyone’s head in less than a second.

His ears picked up something unsavory coming from the lips of Boromir and he stood, indignation flooding through his chest on behalf of his friend.

“That is no ordinary ranger! That is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the throne of Gondor!”

Estel had an exasperated look on his face as he gestured at Legolas to sit down.  _ “Hava dad, Legolas” _

The man snorted. “Gondor has no king.” He turned away. “Gondor needs no king.”

Legolas did sit, except this time he had to set the cup holding Narya down. The water had now reached a simmering temperature, and although his burn from earlier had long healed, he could still feel the tingling warmth. Sighing, he decided that if Sauron knew he was here already, he might as well use the Ring. So he carefully negotiated the fiery flames of Narya’s distress signal down, whispering gently to the screaming metal that everything was alright. Slowly, the heat died down. Mithrandir looked sharply at him out of his peripheral vision, but he stubbornly refused to look at the wizard. The water calmed.

Eventually, after it was decided that the young hobbits, along with Estel, Boromir, the dwarf Gimli, Mithrandir and himself would go to Mordor, the water was cool enough for him to reach inside the cup and fish a wet Narya out, hanging it back onto his chest. In doing so, he exposed the glory of the brilliant red gemstone and gleaming golden metal to the entire council. Boromir’s eyes grew wide and Gimli’s narrowed in anger. He stared them down until they looked away.

Estel approached him as he slung his quiver over his shoulder and fastened it in place, dark hair mussed and eyes tired. 

“Legolas, thank you, I do appreciate it, but please. Do not make this harder for any of us. You cannot go, and you know it.”

Anger welled up in his chest, but he pushed it back down, keeping his face an impassive mask. He looked at Estel with all the piercing assertiveness his  _ ada _ had taught him, a look a prince would exalt on his subjects, although Estel was no subject of his.

“And why is that?”

The man looked genuinely confused. “Sauron. You carry a Ring of great power, my friend, and with it comes great danger and responsibility. By carrying the Ring to Mordor you only seek to make it more unstable.”

Ah. So that was why. Legolas scoffed and picked up his bow, securing it over the quiver. “I assure you, Estel, it makes no difference wherever I go. While the One Ring approaches Mordor, Narya grows unpredictable nevertheless. I would rather go along with the small hobbits to Mordor and be of some use than stay here or go home and bring orcs, death and destruction to the Elven Lands.”

Estel sighed, looking like he was dealing with an obdurate toddler. “Legolas,  _ mellon nin _ , you know this is for your own safety. This battle is not yours to fight.”

He looked at the man, who seemed tired, like he could keel over at a moment’s glance. He didn’t want to give his friend trouble, but there was no way he wasn’t going.

“Estel. I thank you for your concern for my safety. You don’t have to worry about that, though. Assuming that the young hobbit does get the One Ring to Mordor, I would be a very foolish prince to think that Sauron would go down without a fight. No matter if he has the One Ring or not, he is powerful, and has legions of orcs and many more just as terrifying creatures at his disposal. You will need the power of Narya, Estel. I will not lose it to Sauron, mentally or physically. It will be alright. I have had a thousand years of training.”

Estel threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Legolas, you don’t seem to realize that this isn’t about you!”

That was it.

Cold rage bubbled in his chest and he gently let go of his bow. “Estel. This is the last time I will be saying this to you. This is not a matter of me wanting adventure or a chance to throw myself into danger. It’s a matter of me knowing what’s the right thing to do. I will be going to Mordor whether you like it or not. I will follow your command as a leader, but I will not accept whatever misgivings you have about my control over my Ring. Narya is coming because we will need its power. I will not throw fire around like a child. I have not used it in ninety years, Estel, and never before that. The power of a Ring is not something to be taken lightly, and you seem to have forgotten that I know that better than you.”

With that he turned and walked away, ignoring the frustrated, human groan from behind him as he took long strides away from the meeting place. It was a short while of walking before he reached a small, cheerful waterfall, bubbling away. He smiled sadly and bent down, letting his fingertips skim the water’s surface, feeling the raw rush of power hidden underneath the melody of a gently moving current. The beautiful crystal pendant hidden underneath his tunic slipped out of his collar. He took it off and looked at it, turning it over in his hand.

It was a delicate, intricate swirling design, smooth clear edges running down into a glimmering leaf-shaped emerald in the center.

It was custom for elven maidens to gift their true love with a pendant of some sort. Although he wasn't a maiden, his father had had one made for him, and he'd never taken it off since. Thranduil had it named the Lionheart Pendant, and it had started a mad rush among the elven kingdoms to create an heir worthy of receiving it from him. To this day, the craze hadn't let up, especially since he was of age to be married and rather desirable.

He dangled the pendant in the clear waters, admiring the way the light glinted off the silver edges of the gems. It was definitely not as mysterious as something like the Evenstar necklace, since it was really unclear if the Lady Arwen ever intended to give it to Estel, but highly sought after all the same. It had been months before his father was able to calm down the insane flood of suitors polluting Mirkwood's halls. 

The green glinted as he compared it to Narya's fiery wrath, the bright red gemstone a sharp contrast to the beautiful, soft emerald. Sloping silver compared to harsh yellow. He lowered the Ring into the stream, cleansing it of any dirt and grime that had gotten stuck onto it. Underneath travel-stained ocher was a gleaming, glowing luminous gold. The way the two jewels shone in the light with magic and ethereal power, he was almost inclined to believe they could be matching Rings, instead of one being a regular emerald infused with a couple spells of olden nature.

He draped them back over his neck and sat down, sighing. His keen ears picked up the sound of light footsteps. Such graceful movements could only belong to one creature.

"My Lady." he greeted quietly. "Greetings, and many appreciations for the beauty of your home."

She came up behind him and he could see her fair face reflected in the crystal clear waters, long brown hair touching the surface of the liquid. She smiled gently and spoke in a soft voice, matching his whisper.

"My Prince. You have my thanks. Imladris is truly a wonderful place to be in summer."

The sunlight reflected perfectly off of her so that he could see the Evenstar pendant glimmering against her chest, a shining beacon of life and love. He realized with a start that she was staring at his own pendant, newly hanging around his neck. 

"The Lionheart Pendant. I've heard much about it, and the elf who holds it. It's rather infamous, even here in Imladris, where my own pendant is of higher accord."

He sighed again. "Is it? I was hoping the fuss had died down a bit. I'd never intended it to be such a race, _Ada_ just wanted it to be like a wedding ring, but of more value."

She sat daintily beside him and watched as the stream bubbled cheerfully. They stayed there in silence, enjoying the company of another for a while. Finally she spoke once more.

"I am sorry for Estel."

He wanted to hit something. "Oh no, it was not his fault. I understand where he is coming from. I do not blame him for anything."

She turned her head ever so slightly to look at him. "But he has irked you, even just a little bit."

He started to protest, but she cut him off, rising to her feet and brushing off her robes. "I personally think you should go. You and Estel are good friends, and he just wants your safety. He thinks you want adventure, something to thrill yourself with. He does not realize you are not the free-spirited elf you were. I think you should talk to him, let him know that they will not succeed without you. Because they will not. That power of yours is unsurpassed by any elf here. He knows this as much as you or I do. He just does not want you to get hurt."

He rose with her, helping her out of the way of a large boulder. "I know he just wants me to be safe, and I am ever grateful for his concern. It has saved me many times in the past. I value his friendship. I just wish he would stop treating me like a elfling with a hammer."

She smiled ruefully. "He tends to do that. He likes to maintain control. He gets anxious and worried when he faces a problem he cannot kill with his sword."

Legolas laughed. "I suppose he could try to kill me with the sword, but that wouldn't solve anything, would it?"

She joined him in his amusement, their voices melding together in the beautiful afternoon. They walked up the hill, back to the Council Clearing, where she bade him goodbye and joined the flood of maidens heading away. He journeyed to his own room, intending to freshen up, brush his hair, and then shoot something. His fingers were aching for the pull of his bowstring. But along the way he encountered a determined Estel, who grabbed him and almost dragged him outside again. Gasping and stumbling, he wrenched himself out of his friend's grip.

"By the Valar, Estel! What are you doing!"

The man was breathing heavily, evidently having run all the way from somewhere far. He steadied himself with a hand on a nearby pillar.

_"Goheno nin, Legolas."_

I'm sorry? What was he apologizing for? Legolas frowned. "It is alright, Estel. I know it was not your intention to offend me in any way. Thank you for your consideration of my safety."

Estel smiled. "I know you are of great power, my friend, and that your control over your Ring is nigh unrivaled. I am just worried that you will get hurt."

Legolas clapped him on his shoulder and the man pulled him into an embrace. They'd been close ever since they'd first met, when Estel was barely six and Legolas was an elf of 2850 years. They'd both been considered quite young, and had immediately clicked. Over the years, as Estel grew and Legolas matured, they'd only succeeded in growing closer. The Battle of the Five Armies had driven a shield between them, but it had quickly been struck down when Legolas found him and realized the mysterious Ranger his father spoke of was really Aragorn. 

In recent years, Estel had been preoccupied with Arwen and the North, and Legolas had taken on more and more duties as the Prince of Mirkwood, but they were still, and would always be the best of friends.

When they parted, Legolas smiled, flicking his long blonde hair over his shoulder and adjusting his bow. "I trust, Estel, that you no longer have any objections of me going to Mordor?"

Estel sighed and shoved a hand into his hair. "I still do not like it, Legolas, _mellon nin_ , but I suppose I shall have to let you. You would find some way to come even if I didn't want you to."

Legolas stared him down. "Let me?"

Estel gasped. "Oh no, I did not mean that! I am most sorry. I mean, support your decision."

He laughed. "Oh, my friend, I was just jesting with you. I know what you mean."

And as the sun set, the two friends walked away, chatting about nonsensical things, enjoying the last day they'd have together before everything they loved would be torn away from them.

Even if it was fake.


	2. Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the journey to Mordor with the Fellowship, Legolas finds himself rather conflicted over whether or not he belongs there with them. Aragorn comforts him, and they find solace in each other on the icy slopes of Caradhras.

Companionship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 2

The seeing-off from Imladris was a grand one. Legolas stuck to the back, hanging around Estel as the hobbits showered themselves in Gandalf's reassuring words. The dward and Boromir of Gondor were talking in hushed voices, sneaking glances at him. He turned away with a glare.

Estel noticed his sour mood and laid a hand on the small of his back. "Don't worry, _mellon_ , everything will be fine. We'll be there and back before you know it. I don't think anyone will get hurt."

He shrugged and leaned into his best friend's touch. "That is not what my mind lingers on, Estel. But do not lie. People will be injured, and people will die. The Halls of the Valar will be full before the end of the season."

Estel stiffened. "Legolas, please. Do not think of such dark matters. We must focus on keeping Frodo and the One Ring safe." The desperation in his voice was evident and so was the glint of longing in his eyes. He forgot. Estel would be leaving the love of his life behind to wait fretfully for him. He searched quickly for any glint of silver in his tunic. He found none. Ah, so the Lady had not given her pendant to him yet. She was waiting for him, waiting for him to come back to her so she could safely promise him her heart. No doubt she'd wanted to give it to him anyway, but he'd gently refused it. He could already imagine the scene, Arwen tearful, Aragorn reminding her that he'd rather die without her eternal love than her die with his eternal love. Rough fingers gently tucking a piece of brown hear behind a delicate, pointed ear. A sweet kiss goodbye.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of such sad imagery. They were setting off, Mithrandir leading the way. The hobbits, especially Frodo, scurried along behind him. Then came the dwarf, Boromir, Estel, and Legolas staying at the back, walking on light feet, keeping his eyes trained for unsavory individuals. For a while they walked in quiet, relishing in the safe feeling of Imladris. Then, when they ventured out into the woods and were truly gone from the comfort of the familiar Elven place, and only then did Legolas pull out his bow and nock an arrow, readying for any sort of impending battle. He had a bad feeling.

Estel noticed and his hand went to the hilt of his sword. The dwarf saw them both tense. He scoffed, his ax still trailing lazily behind him. Boromir had the brains to at least brush his fingers along his sword as well. Mithrandir was on high alert and entertaining the hobbits at the same time. They traveled in a tight, tense formation. 

Twenty leagues in, they stopped to take a break. Boromir played with the hobbits and taught them sword fighting while Legolas stayed on guard and shot arrows at a passing woodland animal for lunch, muttering a quick prayer to the Valar as thanks for the meal. Estel gathered medicinal herbs and spices and they made a quick roast meat. It's fast, and Legolas, who was not used to heavy foods like spiced meat and found it quite strange, managed to find some fruit to munch on.

They rested there for a while until he could see a dark cloud flying to them, two, three leagues away. He instinctively jumped up and tried to fire an arrow at it, then realized that he couldn't. "Hide!" he shouted, and everyone, startled, scrambled to cover their fire and food with leaves and jump into a bush as the spies of Sauron circled overhead, suspicious of the scent of smoke and meat hanging in the air.

Legolas hastily swept his distinguishable long blonde hair over his shoulder and burrowed closer to Estel, hidden behind the scratchy branches of a nearby shrub. Beneath his shirt, Narya flared with heat, warning him of the danger passing as the birds flew away, either satisfied or to report to their master. His ear twitched. They were gone, but he did not dare to venture out from safety. After a short while, he hesitantly poked his head out, finger brushing against the metal under his tunic. It had cooled. There was no danger anymore.

He stood up, stretching his back as Estel, the hobbits, Mithrandir and Boromir clambered out after him. The dwarf was trying to untangle his beard from a scratchy branch. He snorted. It was quite an amusing sight.

The Redhorn Gate was surely being watched, and Gandalf said as much. The other choice... he looked to his left, noting the intimidating, tall slopes of Caradhras. The icy, snowy mountain was a terrifying backdrop against the bright sky. He sighed. There were only two ways to get to the woods beyond now. Neither were ideal. Both were dangerous.

It had been a while since he'd been to the mountain. Mithrandir had taken him there when he was but an elfling, intent on training him among the harshest he could find. For a warm-blooded, fiery child like Legolas had been, kind of spoiled and used to warmth and love, the shock had been a real one, and he'd spent about an hour sitting there and trying to build a fire. Then he'd remembered Narya, but Mithrandir had told him he wasn't to go above a two percent of what power he used regularly.

He'd lived there for many months. He could handle it for sure, and so could Mithrandir, but he didn't know about the rest of them. The dwarf was used to ripping hot mines and underground caverns, the hobbits were small and barefoot, and Estel and Boromir were, although great warriors, still men, and prone to illness, injury, and plague.

That night they slept fitfully. It was hard, even for Legolas, who had volunteered to stay on watch the entire night. Wolves and wild animals frequently attacked, and at one point he, Estel, Boromir, and Gandalf had all had to work together to fight them off. Of course, a healthy dose of fire helped a great deal as well. In the morning they all agreed to move as quickly as possible up the slopes of Caradhras, but not before they had a nice breakfast of leftover meat, fruit and bread.

As they set off up the mountain, he could feel Boromir's hungry gaze on his chest. The greed lapped at the edge of his vision. He grimaced and looked forward. The man was quickly becoming his least favorite member of the Fellowship, even behind Gimli the dwarf. At least _he_ had the common decency to not stare at an Elven Ring of Power, being a different race.

The Lionheart Pendant swung, emeralds and silver catching the light. One of the hobbits, Pippin if he was correct, scurried up to him and looked at it curiously. "Mister Elf, what's that pretty green necklace you're wearing?"

Legolas smiled kindly. "Why, Master Hobbit, that is the Lionheart Pendant. Someday, if I find my true love, I will give it to them and they will wear it as a symbol of eternity. It is tradition for many elven royalties to wear one, although I must admit it is usually worn by a female. It is laced with magic that will bond it to their soul."

The little one's eyes widened. "That's just so cool, Mister Elf!" Legolas laughed. "I suppose it is. Rather interesting, is it not?" Another hobbit, Merry this time, joined them. "What kind of royalty are you, Mister Elf? Are you a king?" Legolas hummed. "No, definitely not! I am the son of the Elvenking, so I am the prince of the Mirkwood realm.

The grassy ground started to turn to frost and finally snow. The hobbits looked miserable. He sighed as they walked another while, feeling sorry for the pain the young ones had to endure. They were so innocent, so pure. They didn't need to be swept up into danger and mystery like the rest of them, all seasoned warriors.

He turned to Mithrandir and gently tapped his shoulder. "Would it be alright if I used Narya to warm the hobbits a little? They are so small, and they look so cold. The rest of us are bigger, and it will only be for a short while. Just a little flare of heat."

The wizard hummed. "It would not be wise, _mellon nin_. But I suppose, just a second or two and Sauron will be none the wiser. No actual fire, just heat. You may warm them in continuous short bursts of warmth."

Legolas turned to them and gestured for the hobbits to come closer. He held out his arm. "Now, all of you grab onto me, alright?" They clustered around him, laying freezing cold palms on his sleeve. He smiled and reached out to Narya's power. A sudden spike of flame shot through him and he sent it to the hobbit's hands. They gasped in delight and excitedly asked for more. "I'm sorry, hobbits, but that's all I can safely give you for now. Maybe a little bit later, and certainly when you go to sleep." Disappointingly they started walking again, though Legolas did grant a bit of heat to Estel and Boromir as well. The dwarf seemed too proud to ask an elf for help. Hmph. No matter, it was his loss. He could freeze for all Legolas cared.

The sky was growing dark, the clouds blowing in. The steep trail turned higher still, the road narrow and winding and cold. The first few flurries of snow fell, scattering in a shower and cascading over Legolas' hair. He blinked and brushed them off. They rushed for him, more insistent this time. It was freezing, something he was not used to.

The necklace shifted under his shirt and darkness tinged at the corner of his vision. Through his peripheral glance around at the rest of the Fellowship, he could see Boromir eyeing his chest. Subtly he stretched his arm out and pretended to itch at his shoulder, when in reality he was moving the chain to under his hair, where it was even more out of sight and close to his neck, easy to protect with a hand and his quiver. Harder to use, but further out of greedy Men's reach.

Mithrandir allowed them all a mouthful of warming elven liquor and they continued on. Although they were well-clothed, they never felt quite warm enough, except for Legolas, who remained as healthy and well as he could. The strong body of an Elf was not something to be underestimated. They made camp for the night, the hobbits, the Men and finally Gimli the dwarf lining up in front of him to get some warmth as Mithrandir laid out some scant bedding for them to sleep on. Legolas swung up into a tree, preferring to rest among leaves and branches. He plucked a plump cranberry from a bush on the ground and popped it into his mouth, tart juices exploding on his tongue. He'd always liked cranberries. 

He sat there for a while, collecting some berries, and tossed them in a bag down into the camp below. "Anyone want some cranberries?"

Estel sat under the tree he was in and pulled open the satchel, reaching in and grabbing a handful of red berries. "Where did you find these?"

He shrugged. "These are cranberry bushes all around. I do not know why they have survived in such harsh climates, but who am I to judge?"

His friend frowned suspiciously at the round, perfect berries. "Are you sure they are not a plot Sauron has cooked up to poison us?"

Legolas leaned over the branch he was in to give Estel a firm swat on the head. "Relax! They taste fine to me, and I have a tongue used to the best of fruits."

The hobbits crowded around for some as well and soon they were all munching on cranberries, laughing well into the night. Eventually everyone went to bed and Estel dragged his bedding under the tree so they could talk in quiet. Legolas laid back down on the branch, draping his arms over some leaves and settling in. Legolas continued to pick cranberries, drying them with Narya's emitted heat slowly as he chatted with Estel. It was a fairly peaceful night.

Until the blizzard.

It began innocuously enough, with the snow picking up a little but. He made nothing of it. But after a while the winds were starting to get chillier and he had to get off the tree and curl himself around Estel to keep him warm. The hobbits had snuggled up in the same bedroll too. Boromir had stayed near Gandalf and wrapped his bedding around himself. The dwarf was likely protected with that beard of his. The night only got colder and the snow fell harder. Eventually his vision diminished to the point where he couldn't see more than a league or two in front of him. Estel could barely see a foot!

He peered through the howling storm of white. There were no hidden assailants come to capture them. There was only the cold, the wind, and the increasing pit of dread in his stomach. He burrowed his face into Estel's wet hair, trying to spark some warmth in Narya. It worked. The two of them were toasty in an instant. Mithrandir seemed too tired to care as everyone leapt free of their positions to try and get some fire. They huddled up in a pile, his Ring flaring, Legolas gritting his teeth to keep Narya's eager shouting under control. It had been a while since he had used it beyond a simple spark. This prolonged heating was hard, but bearable.

It got harder. Less bearable.

He hadn't been able to resist letting the heat fly up a notch, but no one had seemed to care. They'd all only sighed and curled in closer to him, but he was getting worried. Any more and it might start getting uncomfortable.

Eventually Mithrandir stopped him, to his relief, and he shut Narya off completely, letting Estel hold him tighter. He sighed. So far he hadn't done much for the company. Sure, he'd provided with heat and warmth, speared a couple wolves, kept an eye out for warnings. But much as Estel had feared, Narya's power was growing the longer it spent time close to the One Ring. It had been much harder to control, much more volatile lately. He was a little scared. Also, he had forgotten to inform his _ada_ of his journey. He must surely be worried sick. Oh, his poor father. He was an only child, motherless. He would be alone right now, not knowing if Legolas was okay. Should he have even come? Perhaps he could hand the Ring back to Mithrandir, who had better control over it, and head back to give reports and bring help? Perhaps he should just leave Narya behind and leave in the dead of the night, fleeing to Mirkwood to comfort his father. Or perhaps he could take the Ring with him and use it to help keep the forces of Mordor at bay while the Fellowship continued onward.

Estel reached out and brushed a hand through his hair. " _Mellon nin_ , is something bothering you?" he murmured, his voice drowsy. "No, Estel. Nothing is bothering me."

Now more awake, the man snorted. "Oh really? Then why have you been sighing nonstop for the last while? Something is clearly wrong, Legolas. Please tell me what."

He sighed again. “I am sorry, Estel, for bothering you. I am just wondering whether I should leave the Fellowship, let Mithrandir, who is more capable, handle the Ring, head back to Mirkwood to help fight orcs and whatnot.”

Estel wrapped his arms tighter around him. “How foolish of you to think that, Greenleaf. You know, you are an integral part of our company. Without you, we would not have known of the spies of Sauron, would surely have nearly frozen to death by now, would have much lower morale. You help us countless ways. You are a great fighter, a quick thinker, have sharp eyes and a sharp mind. Do not count yourself out because Gandalf might be better with that Ring than you. Why don’t you mention that no one can wield a bow and arrow as well as you do in this land?”

He laughed lowly. “Thank you, Estel. Your words cheer me greatly.”It was cold, so cold. And although Narya was only emitting a weak and fragile heat, he suddenly felt warm and comforted, the taste of cranberries on his tongue and the scent of his best friend in the air.


	3. Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He had always felt most at home in the forest. The tall trees and swaying branches were his domain, his shelter and his soul. He knew how best to move so his feet didn’t make crunching sounds on leaves, how to blend in with the shadows, how to make sure his sharp and contrasting features stayed out of sight behind the cover of a birch or pine or oak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I'm so sorry for the extended hiatus. Even I didn't expect to wait so long. Embarrassingly, I actually recovered some time ago, maybe around February 20th, but I kept putting this off and somehow a month flew by!  
> Again, I have everything written. This chapter is unbeta-ed, simply because my beta is sick (she's ok, don't worry!) and she can't work right now.  
> With all the coronavirus panic going around, I haven't really had time to write, since I was discharged right around when it was getting serious, so they kept running tests, and I got into another school, so I'm going back to China next year, and I'll probably fly back to keep safe from hate crimes.  
> Now, with a bunch of drama, AO3 has officially been banned in China. As a fan of Xiao Zhan and his work as well, I want to express my deepest apologies for what happened. I promise, not all fans of The Untamed or MDZS are like this! There has been a lot of drama, but BJYXs' everywhere are trying to quell it, and solo fans have been sprouting fake hate and bullshit.   
> Since it's banned in China, I will try to get a VPN, but I'm not sure if it'll work since the firewall regulations are pretty tight. Nevertheless, I will try to continue to update from China.  
> And with all the coronavirus, people have started to commit hate crimes against my people, which is the main reason I'm going back to China, at least for a short while. Since right now, nowhere is technically safe, I'm going to stay under the radar for a bit.  
> Cheers!

Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 3

The way down from the mountain was quiet. Legolas didn’t speak much, instead opting to navigate and keep his eyes out for any threats. Ahead, everyone else trudged onward, mood light despite the hardships they faced the night before. Slowly, snow turned to muddy earth, which became dry, hard packed dirt and finally the forest floor, covered in a thin layer of leaves. Legolas breathed in the scent of pine needles.

He had always felt most at home in the forest. The tall trees and swaying branches were his domain, his shelter and his soul. He knew how best to move so his feet didn’t make crunching sounds on leaves, how to blend in with the shadows, how to make sure his sharp and contrasting features stayed out of sight behind the cover of a birch or pine or oak.

Before a while, they ran into the elves of Lothlorien. Haldir appeared, much to Legolas’ delight.

“ _ Mellon nin! _ ”

They’d exchanged a quick embrace, and the Marchwardens had expressed a reasonable desire for the dwarf to be blindfolded before they entered. However, he’d protested, and Estel sighed, placing a hand on Gimli’s shoulder.

“We are a fellowship. We will all be blindfolded, or none at all.”

Indignation rose in his chest. “I am a prince of their people!”

Estel turned to him, grey eyes wide with shock. They’d always stood together, no matter the backlash, but to ask his own kind, his own subjects to blindfold and humiliate him? And Haldir and the patrol were clearly reluctant to disrespect a prince as well. He would not. And it was pointless anyway, Mirkwood and Lothlorien had always had a good relationship and he’d been to the fair wood many times before. He already knew the way. Blindfolds would mean nothing.

“Legolas, please.”

However, his best friend looked tired, weary after hours of traveling. Mithrandir stepped forward, pulled Haldir aside, and began conversing quickly and quietly. Legolas could hear them, negotiating about the importance of the way to the silver wood, and that the dwarf would never return, it was just a quick pass through. But the Marchwardens stood steady, refusing to let a dwarf lay eyes upon the way to Lorien, and Legolas did not blame them. He himself remembered years back when a company of dwarves had come upon Mirkwood. Even with Mithrandir’s blessing, they’d quickly been captured and stripped of weapons. 

Estel continued looking at him with that tired gaze, grey eyes pleading for some semblance of relief. His resolve weakened. Haldir glanced at him from behind Mithrandir and shrugged. It slipped further.

The dwarf groaned. “Fine, I will allow the blindfold if everyone, including the elf prince wears it too!”

The hobbits and Boromir quickly agreed. Mithrandir showed no signs of disagreement. Estel took three long strides across the platform and took his hands, holding them tightly, switching to Sindarin Elvish smoothly.

“ _ My friend, I know that it must not be a good feeling. But we  _ must _ pass through the woods of Lothlorien, and you are our most trustworthy ambassador with the elves here; you are their prince! It is an urgent journey. The hobbits are tired, hungry and cold. Please, Legolas, my life-long partner, I ask you to put your pride aside for one moment. I know your family is a proud one, and you are strong and royal. But please. _ ”

What was left of his resolve shattered and he sighed. “Very well, my friend. Just this once, I will allow it.”

The hobbits visibly brightened. “Thank you so much, Mister Elf!”

He smiled a little at them. “Do not thank me, thank Haldir and the Marchwardens.” 

Said elf gave a low rumble of laughter. “Oh, my prince, we are just doing our job. Now, we have these ribbons. Please kindly turn around and we will secure them for you.”

He turned his back and Haldir looped the silver ribbon gently around his eye. Immediately his other senses sharpened, though he still hated having one of his senses taken away from him. Mirkwood elves had good eyesight and hearing, even for elves, and were widely praised for their archery. He wasn’t sure if he could shoot as accurately without his eyes, if a threat ever came upon them.

The Marchwardens led them into the silver wood, blindfolded and helpless. But the familiar scent and feeling of the air settled around Legolas and he relaxed a bit. It was then he realized Estel was still holding tightly onto his hand. He didn’t know why, the man could have let go a long time ago, but he wasn’t about to complain. He quite liked it, actually, no one really held his hand often.

  
  


The arrival at the silver wood was subdued. Celeborn immediately pulled Mithrandir aside into a separate chamber, along with several other elves. Aragorn and Legolas were invited to go, but they both declined, saying they’d rather change, eat and have a bath first.

Haldir showed them to a flet where the hobbits had already passed out. Aragorn’s heart ached for the little beings, so young and innocent and pure. They really had no business being in this whole ordeal.

Frodo wasn’t asleep yet, choosing instead to stare at the gold shine of the Ring. He bore the heaviest burden of them all, having to carry the cursed One Ring. Aragorn prayed silently to the Valar for mercy on this young being, already forced into the grim reality of war and death and destruction, so far from the gentle, calm nature of the Shire.

He washed, ate and changed silently, not feeling like conversation. But no matter how he tossed and turned, he could never fall asleep.

Just then, he heard a haunting, melodious melody ring out into the night air, like the tinkling of silver bells. It was undoubtedly an elf singing, and the voice was familiar enough that he knew it to be none other than Legolas.

He rose silently, slipping out of the flet so as not to disturb the hobbits’ sleep and made his way down to the grassy clearing.

High in the trees, Legolas stood, one slim hand on the tree trunk, singing quietly of a love, gained and lost. He did not recognize the tune, but it had a distinctly Mirkwood element to it, so it was probably an old Sindarin love ballad. It was truly a beautiful song. 

When it finished, Legolas turned his head and smiled at him, sapphire eyes twinkling. He’d changed into the silvery robes of the Lothlorien, and his blonde hair was unbound, free to cascade down his back like a silky river. Aragorn’s mouth went dry.

The moonlight illuminated his already beautiful friend so that his skin shone like pearls, making Legolas look even more ethereal then he already was.

Aragorn was no fool, he had always known that his best friend was attractive. His entire line was well-regarded for their almost feminine beauty, with fair skin, wide ocean eyes and flowing golden hair. But he’d never thought of him like that, as  _ beautiful _ . He’d simply acknowledged it and moved on, since Legolas had never referred to himself as beautiful or stunning. He wasn’t a vain elf. It wasn’t in his personality. Hundreds of suitors had presented themselves to King Thranduil, who’d turned every single one down, declaring not even one coming close to being worthy of his son. And Aragorn had always silently agreed, knowing his best friend deserves someone who loved and cherished him, not purely for his looks.

But now, for some reason he understood the mad flush of potential marriages that had flooded Mirkwood as soon as word of the Lionheart being eligible for marriage got out. He was truly…

_ Gorgeous. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, darling, Aragorn, that's called LOVE.   
> I'm not sorry.


	4. Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aragorn was confused. King Thranduil had always been a being of ice, frosted over by years of wear. He’d thought that he wore a cage of iron around his heart, with the only key having been lost with his late wife. Maybe, just maybe, his son had found a way to soften the cruel metal with sweet melodies that sang of times far happier. 
> 
> READ THE NOTES!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.  
> So I said I'd get chapter 4 up soon. There's really no excuse this time except for circumstance. I wasn't feeling well, so I self-isolated for a very long time to make sure it wasn't corona. (It wasn't, don't worry). With travel bans, there's pretty much no way for me to get back to China, so I'm not really sure what I'm going to do. I've been focusing on online school and translating this online novel my friend wrote.  
> I stated that I have no set update schedule. That might be, like the truest thing I've ever said, because I am a MESS of a human being and I have absolutely no respect for schedules. I'm so sorry for the delay, and I'm not gonna lie: I honestly have no idea for when chapter 5 (aka the first part of Two Towers) will be up. I've written up to halfway through chapter 5.   
> I said that I would have Nightlight done by the end of 2020. That is going OUT THE WINDOW. I REPEAT. OUT THE WINDOW. Maybe the Return of the King will be done by the end of 2020. There've been so many delays that I didn't expect. And I also said that I had a Valentine's Day oneshot done. I do have that done. It is DEFINITELY NOT EDITED and I feel nowhere near comfortable posting it. That Valentine's Day oneshot might end up being an Independence Day oneshot, lmao.  
> I am so grateful for the support. Thank you so much. For everyone who left kudos or comments, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I never expected this to get more than ten kudos and maybe a hundred hits. I know that there aren't a lot of kudos, compared to the BIG FICS, but this still means a lot to me. So, thank you to everyone who showed interest!  
> I've been trying to brush up on my Chinese lately :) I feel like I've been reading a lot of LOFTER fics as opposed to AO3, so hopefully, I'll be better for when the travel ban lifts. I hope you enjoy this relatively short chapter!

Comradeship for a Piece of Jewelry: Part 4

“Estel?”

The sound of a silvery tinkling voice, laced with inquiry interrupted his thoughts. He could feel his face blazing as Legolas cocked his head to the side, inadvertently exposing more of his elegant neck. Aragorn quickly cleared his throat.

“Legolas,  _ mellon nin _ , what are you doing up so late?”

A wry smile painted the elf’s lips as he sat and swung off the tree branch, landing neatly on the forest floor. The silver fabric of his robes billowed out around him like an ethereal skirt. Standing there, he looked as if he was made from moonlight, woven from strands of glimmering stardust.

“I could ask the same of you.”

He turned to the side, trying to hide his red face behind his hair. “I could not sleep.”

Light footsteps as Legolas approached. Aragorn dared not turn back around, for he knew the sight would entrance him. What was going on?

“Me neither.”

A gentle sigh as Legolas placed a warm hand on his shoulder. He forced himself to relax, turning to meet his bright sapphire eyes.

“But I know a place.”

A quirk of those pink lips, then his- best friend or something- was walking away, gesturing for Aragorn to follow him. And of course he would. He’d follow Legolas to the ends of Middle Earth, straight into the fiery gaping maw of Mount Doom if he wished.

They walked for a while, accompanied only by the occasional hoot of an owl or whistling of the wind. Finally, the elf prince stopped and turned to reveal the sight.

Aragorn’s breath hitched. The great river shone in the moonlight, silvery beams lighting up the calm water. The river looked like crystals, shining and shifting ever so slightly as light bounced and refracted. Fireflies fluttered close to the surface then away, zipping here and there. The grass was cool as he crouched next to a kneeling Legolas, who closed his eyes and placed his hand on the surface of the water, mumbling something in an ancient language Aragorn did not understand.

The water parted and shifted, moving with gentle caresses as an orb of crystalline water emerged, hovering in the air. He stared, transfixed at the diamond-like sphere, as Legolas removed his hand from the water, put a finger into the orb, and promptly lit the inside on fire. 

Aragorn gasped as his friend retracted his finger. The fire stayed, however, encased in the water, burning brightly. It was absolutely beautiful. The firelight illuminated the elf prince’s face, reflected in his eyes, and he smiled, a pure, beautiful thing as water and fire floated around them, hovering.

Legolas turned, wrapping both his hands around the sphere and closing his eyes. A soft yellow glow emerged, wrapping in tendrils down his arms and entire body, lifting his hair like some sort of magical wind. He laid back, sweeping his hair out from under his back and opened his mouth. A soft, sweet melody rang out, with a Mirkwoodian lilt. The sphere pulsed with light once, twice, three times, and then it faded. Aragorn swallowed deep in his throat, curious but reluctant to stop the beautiful performance. 

His voice blended with the serene night air, blowing like a gentle wind across the crystal waters of the great river. In the darkness of night, his very presence seemed to light up the world, a glowing sun from right here in Middle Earth. 

The melody faded, mingling with the breeze. Legolas sighed. The sphere popped, the water falling to the ground, enchantment gone with the singing, the ancient language fading away. The fire inside, fizzled with smoke, lightly crackling, then fizzed out of existence, a final tribute to the beautiful melody. Aragorn sighed.

“My friend, what was that?”

Legolas put his hands down, echoing his sigh with one of his own.

“It is an ancient spell I have learnt. It channels the power of Narya to create long-distance sound messages. The fire lantern records my singing, and when I stop, it pops. The sound will go wherever I wish it to go. This particular time, I have sent it to the great halls of Mirkwood, where my father may be keenly aware of my absence yet.”

He turned. “Would you like to record one for Lady Arwen?”

Aragorn shook his head wordlessly, the pain of leaving his love still too fresh in his mind. “No. I think that she and I both need to take some time.”

Legolas sighed. “Yes. The only downfall is that speech sometimes does not come through as clear as I would like.”

He turned his fair face up towards the moon. “I used to sing, back in the Woodland Realm. Every night. I would climb onto the thick branches of the tree on the balcony of my chambers, and I would sit there, and make sure the windows of my father’s chambers were open, and I would sing.”

He brushed lovely blonde hair over his shoulder. “That particular one was a melody my mother taught me before she passed, when I was a small elfling of barely a century. In a way, it helped my father move on from her loss. She left him barely anything except for memories. He struggled to hold onto any semblance of normality.”

Aragorn was confused. King Thranduil had always been a being of ice, frosted over by years of wear. He’d thought that he wore a cage of iron around his heart, with the only key having been lost with his late wife. Maybe, just maybe, his son had found a way to soften the cruel metal with sweet melodies that sang of a time far happier. Even so, it was hard to imagine the stoic elf king struggling with anything. But he supposed even elves like Thranduil would have a hard time with losing the love of their life.

Legolas smiled sadly and looked down. “That was when Mithrandir passed the Ring down to me. I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t really taking care of my bows, weapons, and other skills, so I threw myself into training with a passion and cared little for anything else. I left Mirkwood for months at a time and returned only for fleeting moments. Looking back on it now, I suppose Father would have taken it as his only remaining family leaving him too.”

He sighed, idly flicking a small stone away. “One night, I had just returned from training in Caradhras. I was planning to leave in the morning, so I went to greet my father before retiring. He was drinking like his life depended on it. I pretended to ignore it, but I think he saw me. Before I left, he tracked me down and told me he loved me for the first time in my long, long life. Then he left. I had wondered whether or not he was still inebriated.”

His sad smile widened, then faded into something a little sweeter. “Alas, when I returned, we spent a lot more time together and I am proud to declare that we are much closer now.”

Aragorn swallowed. He’d only met the elf king a handful of times and each time he’d seemed to treat his son like nothing more than a common guard. Perhaps that was just a mask, put up to protect both him and Legolas.

Somewhere, a wind blew, carrying leaves up into the air. Legolas’s blonde hair fluttered in the breeze, framing his thin face. When the wind settled, he sighed again and lifted himself to his feet, holding out an elegant hand.

“My friend Estel, it is getting late. Retire soon, or we shall not be rested enough for our long journey tomorrow.”

Aragorn took the hand, smooth, soft and warm under his touch and tugged himself upright. 

“You are very right. Thank you so much,  _ mellon nin. _ ”

They walked with silence back to the flets, climbing the stairs quietly. Gandalf was seated on the side, smoking a pipe. He gave them a merry wave when they passed, which they returned.

Aragorn slipped into bed, watching as Legolas did the same beside him, undoing the braids tucked along his ears, letting the waist-length golden river flow onto the sheets. He smiled, leaning over so that his lips were right next to his ears. Aragorn’s breath hitched.

“Good night, Estel. Sweet dreams.”

His voice was slightly breathy, musky with a hint of drowsiness. All the air escaped Aragorn’s lungs.

Legolas turned to settle down, pulling a cover over himself and closing wide sapphire eyes, pink lips stretched into a small twinkle.

_ Sweet dreams indeed. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 谢谢给我翻译的LOFTER user ARAGON, 我很开心！ :))) 我的中文很久没练了，所以没有以前好。再一起谢谢！  
> -九十万个遗言


	5. hiatus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> update!

hello everyone!

from the title you might have noticed that this story will be going on hiatus. to be honest, it's been really busy for everyone in my family, and i'm dealing with a lot of things to do right now. i just dont have the time to update this. i might write a quick oneshot to add to the series once in a while, but your light isn't getting any new chapters until i can finish what's going on with my family. that might take a while, a month, two months, even three. i'm really sorry about my inconsistent upload schedule.

if i'm not going to lie, i think i've kind of fallen out of this movie series and the books, simply because i haven't seen them in so long. that magic you feel when you first watch the movies or read the books has kind of faded, and i'm hoping that when i find the time to rewatch and refresh myself that my inspiration will come flooding back in leaps and bounds.

thank you to everyone who gave this a read, a comment or a kudos. i really appreciate it! thank you so much!

love, hugs, and virtual cookies,

-ninehundred


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